


Knock Knock

by stendahls



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, SMUT!!!!, Smut, Some Humor, also tw for weird monster bodies, i tried not to make it too freaky but i am just a littol monster fucker, this is pure self indulgence, tw: elias exists in this, with some Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:47:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22202821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stendahls/pseuds/stendahls
Summary: Michael won't stop pestering Jon for some godforsaken reason, and although Jon pretends to hate it, he actually quite likes it. Michael does a lot of other things he quite likes as well. ;)
Relationships: Michael/Jonathan Sims, jon/michael
Comments: 1
Kudos: 117





	Knock Knock

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place before Jon's first kidnapping, when everyone is still being held prisoner by Motherfucker Unlimited (Elias).

Jon and Michael had forged a strange relationship. To call it friendship would be inaccurate, but it was friendship adjacent. It was as much of a friendship as a creature like Michael could provide.

It started on an average Tuesday. Jon was slogging his way through an extremely frustrating pile of statements with no rhyme or reason to their filing when he heard a door suddenly open to his left. There wasn’t supposed to be a door to his left. There, in all his glory, stood Michael, that same infuriatingly smug smile on his face that he always wore. Jon immediately grabbed a nearby pencil and began wielding it like a knife. He knew it would do nothing, the creature could probably kill him in one hit, but it made him feel a little safer nonetheless.

“What do you want?” Jon’s voice was tense and dripping with disgust. He tried not to let his fear show as their previous meeting replayed in his mind, his thigh aching just a bit as he remembered.

“I’ve come to ask a question. Given as you are a student of The Eye, I could think of no one better suited to provide me with knowledge.” He spoke with a slow drawl that made it sound like he was enjoying every word just a bit too much.

This caught Jon off guard. Usually,  _ he _ was the one asking questions. This put him in a strange position of power, one he was quick to exploit. “How about an answer for an answer?” He didn’t move from his strange fighting stance. “I tell you a truth, you tell me one.”

Michael thought this over, almost comically, stroking his chin as he made a slight humming noise. His mouth slowly spread into a grin, one too wide to be comfortable. “Deal.” He moved forward, brushing past Jon without sparing a second glance, and seating himself in the office chair that was near a desk and a tape recorder. Jon noted that it was running, but decided not to comment on it. If The Eye wanted to eavesdrop on their conversation then so be it.

He had almost stabbed him when he walked past, his stomach clenching in fear at being so close to the creature, but he decided it wasn’t worth it. He didn’t hide his anger at Michael’s chosen spot though. “That’s my chair.” he spat.

Michael chuckled, quirking an eyebrow. “And?”

He sighed. There was nothing he could do to fight him, and he shouldn’t waste what little peace they had over something as petty as a chair, and a shitty cheap one at that. “I go first.” He crossed his arms and stood up straighter, trying to look intimidating, like a cornered animal being circled by a predator. Michael nodded. A silence formed as Jon wracked his brain for a good question. He had so many that he was drowning in them, and it was nearly impossible to choose just one. After a solid minute, he finally settled on, “What book binds you?” He thought maybe if he could find what book had brought Michael into the world, he could destroy it, hopefully killing the smug bastard.

The creature laughed. It was a vast sound. It made Jon feel like he was choking on something sharp, his head swimming as he struggled not to gasp for air, his bones shaking with an overwhelming sense of wrongness. “You know, I thought an archivist would be smarter than that. You are nothing like your predecessor.”

Jon couldn’t help but roll his eyes, then he seized with fear as he realized what he had done. He had a bad habit of being sassy to creatures that could snap him in half. “I’ve heard that a lot,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Well, I suppose you hear it so often because it is true. That was a  _ stupid _ question.” He said it like a threat, which it very well could have been. “I am bound to no book. Not everything can be so easily contained, and something as grand as I,” he gestured along the length of his body, “will never be held by something so weak. Let me guess, you wanted to kill me, right?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” he admitted with a shrug. More sass. He had the self-control of a toddler.

Michael looked amused. “Good,” he crossed his legs leisurely, “I like spite. Gives the meat a certain...tang.” Jon stiffened, an obvious fear flooding his features, and Michael laughed again. Jon felt like he was going to be sick from the way it rang through him. “My turn.” His devious smile never left his face as he leaned forward, clasping his hands together gently. His fingers were so long they bordered on looking tangled. “What is a meme?”

Jon blanked. Every thought left his head as that question knocked the wind out of him. All he could muster was a strangled “What?”

“Someone told me I look like a meme, and I haven’t the slightest clue what that word means.”

“Did…” He would have laughed had he not been so thoroughly baffled. “Did you try Googling it?” These were words he could not ever imagine himself saying to one of the many things that plagued his life, but especially not Michael. This creature bordered on godhood, and here he was, asking what a goddamn meme is. He felt faint.

He nodded slowly, “I tried, but all I got were strange pictures with words on them. Before you say it,” he leveled Jon with a glare, “I do know how to read. But these were nigh incomprehensible.” 

He started laughing. It wasn’t much, only some giggles badly hidden behind a cough, but it was enough to make Michael’s brows furrow. Jon decided to throw caution to the wind, he just couldn’t contain himself. “I’m sorry, but you have no idea how satisfying it is that you, a...” he fumbled for a word that wasn’t “god” as he didn’t want to give him the ego boost, “a being such as yourself, known for causing lies and confusion, is confused himself about a  _ fucking meme.”  _ He fully collapsed into a fit of chuckles. 

Michael frowned. “Need I remind you that I could end your life right now? Or better yet, give you something far worse than death?”

“Okay, okay.” He tried to collect himself. “It’s like a joke that’s made once, and then everyone else gets in on the joke, and it just becomes a thing, y’know?” He obviously was not getting it, as he tilted his head slightly in confusion. Everything about him was so...exaggerated. “So, let’s say I make a joke that flowers are blue, and then someone makes a picture of a blue flower. People share that picture and that joke, and then when anyone sees a blue flower, they know what it means. A joke that everyone is in on.” He felt proud of that explanation. Perhaps The Eye did grant him some special abilities, though it was a shame they were seemingly only good for giving the definition of “meme.”

He looked satisfied enough with that answer, and stood up, making his way past Jon and back to his personal door. “Thank you, archivist. Your cooperation is much appreciated.” Before Jon could say anything, the door was slammed shut, and he was alone in the archives yet again. He walked over to his chair and plopped down with a sigh. He tried to lose himself in his work again, but he was plagued by the thoughts of what kinds of memes Michael would like. Much to his anger, when he was scrolling through his phone later that evening, he saw something he thought about sending to Michael, just on instinct, as it seemed like something he would find funny. Jon berated himself while simultaneously thanking the gods that he didn’t have his number.

After that, Michael would pop in regularly for seemingly random questions. He had denied their previous deal of quid pro quo and instead threatened violence if he didn’t get his answers. Luckily for them both, all of his questions were trivial. “What are the benefits of a sauna?” “Why do people get mad when you wear socks with sandals?” And Jon’s personal favorite, “What is gamer fuel?” One time he asked what the n-word was and Jon nearly died of a heart attack then and there. All of them were things he could easily look up on the internet, but for some reason, he sought out Jon. At first, Jon had thought it might have something to do with his powers, like he was subconsciously making Michael seek out the information directly from him, but after a while it became clear he just liked to pester him.

That in and of itself was troubling, but even more troubling than that was the fact that Jon was starting to like it. At first, he had been terrified, then he was terrified and annoyed, then just annoyed, and then much to his dismay, he actually began to look forward to his company. It was refreshing to have someone to talk to who wasn’t one of his fellow coworkers/prisoners. Plus, Michael was easy on the eyes, to put it lightly, so that helped a lot. He had even made Jon blush a few times, with his innocent questions about human anatomy and “mating habits” as he would put it. Jon tried to force any romantic thoughts out of his head, reminding himself over and over again that this creature was just that, a creature. A monster. A  _ killer.  _

But Jon had always had something of a fetish for monsters. 

It wasn’t unheard of him to get off to the occasional thoughts of vampires and incubi, hell, even a wendigo or two. So what was the difference, really? Besides the fact that this monster was physically in his presence and could kill him at any second. Damn it all, that actually made him hotter. His masochist streak was reaching new heights, and the thrill of being right in front of something so dangerous yet so charming was (literally) going to get him killed. It didn’t help that Michael was somewhat prone to invading Jon’s personal space and prodding him with long, sharp fingers. He probably meant for it to be intimidating, and it was a little bit, but mostly it was just sexy.

All of this was to say that Jon had developed a crush on The Spiral himself.

So when Michael walked into the archives unannounced, signaled only by the telltale creak of his wooden door, Jon actually felt his heart skip a joyful beat at the surprise visit. He quickly tried to bury it under a scowl and faux sigh of frustration. “Weren’t you here just yesterday?” he asked offhandedly, turning away and focusing on his laptop where he had been typing out a transcript of one of the former archivist’s recordings. 

Michael walked over and shoved a pile of papers off the desk and onto the floor so he could sit in the spot he had cleared. “Yes, but I’ve a pressing question I simply must seek guidance on,” he spoke as slowly as ever, a teasing smile flashing some of his sharp teeth.

Jon sighed and closed his laptop, finally turning to face him fully. “So? Out with it. I haven’t got all day.” That was a lie. He did have all day. He couldn’t leave until the institute let him leave, and that usually wasn’t for another eight hours or so, but Michael didn’t need to know that.

Michael held a hand of mock surprise to his mouth, “Oh, so rude! Need I remind you of your place in this relationship?” He ran a finger across his own throat in a clear threat.

Jon tried to ignore his use of the word “relationship” and instead focus on the small knot of fear in his stomach. He had grown mostly immune to his threats, but they still stirred something inside of him, and it was something he often clung to when he found himself a little too wanting. “Sorry, take your time, I suppose.”

He nodded gently, “Thank you.” He took a moment to gather his thoughts, or perhaps just waste some time, and then asked his question with an astonishing amount of casualness. “What does sex feel like?” He said it like it was nothing at all, just another menial question.

He almost exploded. “I’m sorry, what?” He didn’t even have time to try and stop it before an inferno of blush was spreading across his face. This was, by far, the wildest question he had ever been asked. How was he supposed to answer it? Why was he even asking? Why was he asking him, of all people?

Michael frowned slightly, “Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me, archivist. I asked you what sex feels like. You know, fucking, making love, or whatever else your lot calls it.”

Jon couldn’t handle this. He couldn’t. He was certain he was going to keel over at any moment. It had been bad enough trying to explain various memes and internet concepts to him, but this? This was an entirely new level of insane. He wanted to run away, or perhaps to crawl under his desk and never emerge, but Michael was staring at him, and he knew that if he tried to avoid the question there would be hell to pay. He had yet to actually deny him an answer, but he wasn’t looking forward to what would happen if he did. “I...it feels...good, I guess.” That was the best he could come up with. 

“Hmm,” he looked disappointed, “That’s it? Just good?” He placed his hands on the desk and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. 

As always, Jon’s mouth spoke before his brain had time to stop it, “Why do you want to know?”

“Well, everyone makes such a big deal out of it. Trying to make my way through this world masquerading as a human has been difficult, to say the least, but avoiding people’s sexual advances proves to be a unique kind of frustration.” He locked eyes with Jon, “Do you not feel the same?”

Jon blushed harder, though this time it was driven by self-consciousness. “I...uhh…” People weren’t exactly knocking down his door to get into his pants. Sure, he wasn’t hideous, but he wasn’t anywhere near as inhumanly beautiful as Michael was. “I don’t really experience that problem. I’m not the best looking, and a battle-scarred man with graying hair in his twenties isn’t exactly anyone’s preferred type.” He tried to hide the sadness in his voice but was doing a piss poor job of it. 

He laughed, a sound Jon had come to enjoy. The first few times the feeling it flooded him with was difficult to withstand, but with time it had become intoxicating, and he found himself addicted to the indescribable sensation. Michael looked at him amusedly, “Surely, you must be joking. You’re beautiful, archivist. I find it hard to imagine a man such as yourself has any trouble finding suitors.” To add to his point, Michael reached out and gently traced a finger across Jon’s jaw, “So exquisite.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. Butterflies flooded his stomach, it was rare someone gave him a compliment in general, let alone with such a generous tone, and from a creature who did not give them out lightly. “Thank you,” his voice shook slightly as he spoke, so he cleared his throat. “I don’t...I don’t quite know how to answer your initial question. It’s...a difficult sensation to describe.” He hoped that this explanation would be enough for Michael to leave, as he was getting far too close. 

His finger lingered on the human’s chin, and he didn’t make any move to take it away. “Try it for me.” He spoke it like a command rather than a request. 

Jon’s heart hammered in his chest. “It’s...it’s...uhh…” He was floundering, and he needed to get his act together before he made the creature angry. Some small part of him wanted to anger him, to see what he would do when he got frustrated, to see what he might try to hurt, but he shoved that feeling away, as the lethal danger far outweighed whatever pleasure his masochism might grant him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to center himself, gently moving his head so Michael’s finger would fall away. “It feels good, like, insanely good. Kind of like you’re on fire, but the fire is made of pleasure.” Whatever explanatory skills The Eye granted him, they were not coming into use here. “It centers in your…” He gestured towards his lap, “and it spreads. It doesn’t reach everywhere but it reaches a lot. When you finally...climax...it’s like pure relief. Like…” He really didn’t know how to put it into words in a way that did it justice. “I’m sorry, there’s only so much I can say.” 

Michael nodded, then that damned smile slipped across his face again, and he leveled the human with a gaze that held something he had never seen before in the semi-god. “Can you show me?” He reached out his hand again, but this time to hold Jon’s chin, and gently run his thumb over his lips. 

He felt like he was going to collapse. This was everything he had wanted, and it was every bit as terrifying and overwhelming as he thought it might be. He just never imagined it would happen in real life. “I...I suppose so…” his brows furrowed as he came to the disappointing realization he would have to ask a very serious question before they could move forward. “How can I be certain you won’t kill me?”   
  
He genuinely looked a little shocked as he withdrew his hand. “Pardon me?”   
  
“I mean, you’re not human. You’re a power, or a demigod, or some other name. My point is, you don’t have the best track record of being gentle with humans, and what if you don’t like it? Will you just kill me in a rage?” 

The creature shook his head, and he spoke softly, with sincerity, “I don’t think I could kill you if I tried, and whether that’s because of your position as archivist or because of some fondness within me, the result is the same.” He held his hand out, obviously wanting Jon to hold it.

Jon’s stomach swarmed with butterflies. “Would you tell me if you were fond of me?” he asked gently as he took Michael’s hand. It was soft, but under the skin he could feel sharp bones, jagged and shifting. 

Michael just smiled and raised his hand, guiding Jon out of his chair so he was standing in front of him. “I don’t actually know how to do this, so I’m going to need your guidance.” He laced their fingers together and leaned forward until their lips were just barely apart, “Is this right?”

He nodded fervently before pressing their lips together. They were much softer than he expected, although looking back, expecting them to be as sharp as his hands was pretty silly. They kissed for a little bit, starting with short and gentle pecks, moving to longer kisses, to eventually french kissing. It was messy, and Michael was pretty bad at it, but Jon didn’t care. He just wanted to be close to him. As they kissed, his hands traveled to Michael’s buttoned shirt, gently undoing them and running his hands over his chest. It was bizarre. He could feel his ribs moving and twisting, and when he pulled away for air, he could see them moving under the skin. It was monstrous. He loved it. Even though Michael wasn’t human, he still wanted to treat him with decency, so he moved slowly. “If I do anything you don’t like, tell me, okay?” He gave him a small kiss on the lips to accentuate his point.

A strange look passed over Michael’s face, it wasn’t negative, and it looked almost like affection. There wasn’t much time to study it before he pulled Jon in for another intense kiss. His arms were wrapped around Jon’s shoulders, his fingers occupied by running gently through his hair. It was obvious he was letting the human take the lead, and he seemed to be in no hurry. After savoring the feeling of Michael’s chest, Jon began to slowly unzip his jeans. He wasn’t afraid to admit he was slightly terrified of what he’d find in there. Whatever it was, he prayed that it was soft, and it wasn’t some weird bone protrusion. Although come to think of it, that may have been pretty hot. He used one hand to gently pull away the band of his underwear as he reached his other hand inside and felt...a dick. Thank god. Michael gasped and gave a small whimper, pulling away from their kiss to pant slightly. “You were right,” he said softly.

Jon furrowed his brows, “Right about what?” He pulled his hand away and used them both to properly unbutton and unzip his pants. He grabbed them and pulled slightly, signaling that Michael would need to get off the desk to take them off properly. 

The creature took the hint and stood up, sliding his pants down and awkwardly stumbling out of them. “You were right about it feeling good,” he said in between grunts as he struggled to get his shoes and socks off. He laughed a little at his own efforts, which sent that strange feeling surging through Jon, and it felt amazing combined with his lust. It was almost like an aphrodisiac. Once Michael was properly naked, he gestured towards Jon, “Is it customary for only one to be in the nude?”

Jon chuckled at that. “No, no it’s just…” He didn’t feel very confident taking off his own clothes. He was insecure about the scars that covered nearly the entire left side of his body, but he recalled what Michael had said about him being beautiful, and decided he had nothing to lose. He took off his clothes with no more grace than his partner, and soon they resumed their almost frantic kissing. He pulled away, which was met with a small whine of disappointment before he moved to gently sucking and biting the creature’s neck. He moved his hand downwards and began lightly stroking Michael’s cock, and he bucked upward into the touch. Jon kissed his way down his body, eventually dropping to his knees, kissing and sucking on his hip bones as he stroked. 

“What are you doing down-“ was all Michael could get out before Jon began sucking his dick. He moaned and gently grabbed Jon’s hair, who noted that Michael’s hands seemed to be bigger than before. When he looked up he saw his arms had grown considerably longer and the bones in his chest were shifting with intensity. He seemed to be losing control of his mortal form, and although it should have been horrifying, it was incredibly hot.

Jon stopped sucking for a moment to speak gently, “Hey, hey. Hold yourself together, alright?” Michael nodded, and after allowing a moment for him to catch his breath, Jon went back to work with a long and slow lick from the base of his shaft to the very tip, which earned him a loud moan in response. He went slowly, ignoring his own frustration in favor of pleasing his partner. After a short while, he could tell Michael was getting close to his climax. His breath sped up, his fingers tangled Jon’s hair more tightly, and his moans took on the same otherworldly sound as his laugh. Jon kept going, pulling away just as he came, causing a good portion of it to land on his face. He began to wipe it away, but Michael tugged on his hair in a way that told him to stand, and before he had the chance, the creature had stepped forward and began licking it off. Jon felt like he was going to explode with his own need to be touched, but he didn’t even have time to voice his concern.    
  
Michael spun Jon around and swapped positions with him, pushing him so he was the one up against the desk. “It’s my turn,” he said devilishly, “Let’s see what I’ve learned.” He mirrored the human’s actions, kissing slowly down his body, but he added in gentle bites with his sharp teeth that made Jon gasp with shock and pleasure. Once he reached Jon’s dick something unexpected happened. He began sucking like normal, gently taking the head in his mouth and swirling around it with his tongue, but then his tongue kept extending, out of his mouth and downwards until it was twirled around his shaft. Jon moaned far too loudly and struggled to keep his balance as Michael used his tongue to  _ squeeze. _ It was amazing in a way he had never felt before, and he tried to let Michael know he wasn’t going to last long, but the creature swallowed him down to the base in one swift move, obviously not troubled by a human gag reflex, and Jon couldn’t stop it. He came immediately, unable to even make a sound as he was paralyzed by sheer pleasure. It stole his breath and made his legs shake. By the time he had recovered just slightly, Michael was already standing, kissing him languidly. 

Once they parted Jon spoke with a shaking voice, “That...that was amazing. I…was it good for you too?” He was still out of breath.

Michael grinned, too wide as always, although now it stirred something in the human’s chest like endearment. “I think I finally understand what all the fuss is about.” He gave one final, quick kiss before he began to put his clothes back on, and although he struggled much less than before, he did have to move slowly so he could properly put his limbs back into the correct proportion. Jon followed suit and got dressed as well, and as soon as they were both fully clothed, Michael began to move towards his door. 

“Wait!” Jon didn’t mean to sound so desperate when he called out, but he suddenly had the sinking feeling that he had been used. He hated how much he wanted him to stay. “Are you ever going to come back?” It was a question that sounded terribly cliche. 

Michael laughed, a dizzying sound that was choking in the most beautiful way. “You asked me before if I would tell you if I had grown fond, archivist.”

He steeled himself, prepared to be let down, or worse, threatened. 

“I probably have.” With a wink, he disappeared into his door.

Jon sighed in relief, smiling to himself as he sat down, exhausted, in his crappy office chair. Out of all the crazy shit that had happened to him, from killer worms to being held prisoner, that was by far the strangest thing he had ever experienced. It was also one of the best. He swiveled around and began to pick up the papers that had been thrown on the floor, frowning as he realized they had trodden all over them during their escapades. He heard a door creak open, and he felt happy yet confused as to why Michael had come back so soon, but when he looked to the wall it stared blankly back at him. With a start he realized it was the door to the archives that had opened. He spun his chair yet again and was met with the sight of Elias peeking his head through the doorway. He was flooded with a sudden terror as he realized they hadn’t even attempted to be quiet. 

“Hello, Jon. Real quick, just wanted to ask you, could you keep things down in here?” He spoke with the same even, annoyingly polite tone he had all the time, and Jon was for once actually happy to hear it. He hoped that the fact that he didn’t have his smug “I’m basically your dad and you know that I know you’re in trouble” voice going on meant he was none the wiser.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry, I...uhh…” He fumbled for an appropriate excuse. “I was singing, some weird stupid opera song I heard a few days ago. Must have sounded awful, my apologies.” He was pretty proud of himself for coming up with that so quickly. 

Elias nodded, and for a second Jon thought he might have actually bought it, until that dreaded tone came over his voice, and he said, “You know, I’m not against conjugal visits, but maybe keep you and your pal’s...opera singing...to a lower volume. Toodle-oo!” 

For the second time that day, a door was shut before Jon had time to respond. 

**Author's Note:**

> And then Jon never got kidnapped, Michael never got replaced by Helen, and they lived happily ever after!


End file.
